


Death and a Conversation

by RenkaWrites



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Death, Fix-It of Sorts, Gellert & Fawkes bond, M/M, Masterclass Wizards In love, Post-Canon Fix-It, Purgatory, Reflective Gellert, Renewed Romance, Tragic Romance, gellert pov, the after life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 03:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16845850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkaWrites/pseuds/RenkaWrites
Summary: At the end of his life, Gellert Grindelwald is fully prepared to accept his death and confront the mistakes he's made. He is ready to greet Death with no fear. However, he is not ready for the surprises of the After Life, particularly who is there to greet him.MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS CANON COMPLIANT(This is a fix-it fic)





	Death and a Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my obligatory Gellert Grindelwald redemption fic. After watching Crimes of Grindelwald, I had a lot of feels to work out, and hence this story was born.(Yet another story I had no intention of writing, but demanded to be written)
> 
> The Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts franchises belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. If I owned either of these properties, Gellert and Albus would have their own mini-series in the works.
> 
> All mistakes are mine, 3am typing binges FTW!
> 
> ENJOY!

 

* * *

 

 

Gellert knew of Albus' death long before his guards informed him. 

 

Despite the severance of their blood pact all those years ago, Gellert always had a sense of Albus. It was innate, really. From the first time they met, the seer knew he found his complement—they were both impulsive, youthfully-arrogant wizards, that were destined for greatness.

They were  _preordained_ to revolutionize the Wizarding World.

They were  _fated_ to inspire generations of witches and wizards.

They were  _cursed_ to find in each other what they would never again glimpse in any other.

So, even in his imprisonment, Gellert always took comfort in his other half existing somewhere in the world.

Until that one fateful night, he no longer could.

That loss was, and still is, utterly devastating.

Gellert had always assumed that Albus would either die by his hand or die in peace. His old friend deserved that small clemency—after the pain and seemingly endless battles that Albus had been forced to fight his entire life. Such remarkable talent should only have been cut down by one that equally matched it or not at all.

Albus Dumbledore's premature death is nothing short of a travesty.

Locked far away in Nurmengard castle, unable to even pay his respects to the only one he has ever considered his equal, Gellert is inundated with the soul deep sense of wrong that is now his existence. He laughs bitterly to himself at the irony, the sound echoing hollowly off the stone walls. 

After all, to live in a world without Albus Dumbledore is by far the cruelest punishment that Gellert can imagine.

A torment that not even he had the audacity to ever perform.

The old wizard's laughter dies out as quickly as it came. Lost in his grief over Albus' death, Gellert almost misses the flash of fire-toned feathers by his lone window. He turns his head to find an all-too-familiar avian perched there—the only other creature that could possibly understand the complete and crushing despair of Albus' death.

Fawkes.

Gellert manages to muster a genuine smile for the phoenix. Fitting through the bars with no effort, the bird gracefully lands next to him. Fawkes rests his head on top of the wizard's chest, a forlorn trill escaping his beak.

"I know," Gellert replies. His manacled hand caressing the feathered head. "He is lost to both of us now."

The bird calls lowly, reprising a few notes of the song of lament it sung over Dumbledore's funeral all those months ago. Gellert closes his eyes, and takes in the soulful aria. In his mind's eye, he finds himself reliving the day he first met Albus. He remembers feeling that spark between them, the connection that they shared all their lives, no matter how each denied it.

As Fawkes falls into silence, Gellert opens his mismatched eyes. He runs a hand over the great bird's wing, his fingers trailing over the warm feathers. The golds and reds are vibrant as ever, despite the bleak sorrow the phoenix is experiencing.

"I'm glad to see you, Fawkes." 

For a long time, the two simply sit together. Each of them lost in their memories of Albus, silently sharing the weight of their mutual grief.

The hours of time that pass by feel irrelevant.

Yet, the seer knows that the moments he has left in this world are numbered.

Gellert can sense the arrival of Voldemort before he hears his guards running to fight the contingent of Death Eaters invading the fortress. So can Fawkes, some how the creature is attuned to his own feather that is the core of the other Dark Lord's wand. Gellert looks down at the phoenix with a sense of acceptance on his face.

He knew it was only a matter of time before Tom paid him a visit.

"It seems that I'll be seeing Albus soon. Is there anything you would like me to pass on to him?"

Fawkes says nothing, but sheds a tear. Gellert, despite his pain being beyond the healing of the fantastic creature, does feel a levity to his heart. The former Dark Lord offers the phoenix a fond and grateful smile.

"You served him well, Fawkes," he offers. "I thank you for spending my final hours with me. Leave now, old friend." 

Fawkes hesitates for a moment, staring at the wizard. Gellert nods to the creature, urging him to leave before Voldemort finds his cell. With a great flap of his wings, the phoenix rises up into the air and soars out of the window. Gellert watches Fawkes fly away, the majestic bird fading into the night sky. 

Now alone, the seer takes a deep breath as he savors the last moments of his life. 

Unfortunately, it is rudely interrupted as the door to his cell opens with an unnecessary burst of magic. Lord Voldemeort himself purposefully strides into the cramped cell. His pale features are a harsh contrast to the flowing back robes that billow behind him. A haughtiness edges the dark lord's expression as he gazes down at his predecessor.

Gellert is underwhelmed to say the least. 

His heterochromic eyes take in the snake-like visage of the one before him, resurrected with the help of dark magic. The master wizard can tell with one pass of his gaze that this Lord Voldemort has greedily collected and amassed power with no real understanding or respect of how it worked. Gellert even recognizes traces of his own early forays into the dark arts. Still, his "successor's" efforts are the actions of a child that has discovered a power that he cannot possibly fathom. It is dangerous and volatile only due to the sheer ignorance wielding it. 

Truly, it is laughable that this amateur ever thought himself to be a true match for Albus.

This false lord before Gellert Grindelwald is unworthy of the Elder Wand. Voldemort may well manage to find the powerful Hallow, after all the seer doesn't doubt the man's crafty underhandedness. But, Tom Marvolo Riddle will never be its true master. Grindelwald doesn't need the gift of his Sight to know that.

The thought alone puts a knowing and defiant smile on Gellert's face. 

Staring up into the slitted eyes of "He Who Shall Not Be Named", the true Dark Lord fearlessly meets his gaze.

"Hello Tom."

* * *

The flash of green was far from surprising, if not a tad predictable and anticlimactic on Tom's part.

Yet, meeting his end by the same spell that has killed countless others is a poetic end.

The great Gellert Grindelwald killed, unarmed and emaciated in a prison cell.

Part of Gellert is disgusted that Tom was his death dealer. 

He would have truly enjoyed educating Voldemort in true mastery of the dark arts(Hmm, perhaps he had missed his calling as a professor after all?). 

Yet, a greater part of him is eternally grateful that it wasn't Dumbledore. 

Gellert could not be the cause of another weight of regret that burdened Albus's soul.

He's done quite enough damage on that front. 

Now, laying in this between world of endless white, Gellert takes in this new plane of existence. The space has taken the familiar appearance of a train station, a place of transition. It is fitting, if this void is indeed purgatory. 

Perhaps, his last act of redemption was enough to earn him a temporary delay in his judgment.

Gellert remains on the ground, staring up at the fathomless expanse of white. He is unsure of what will greet him, yet the wizard is for once content to simply wait.

After all, what other choice does he have?

"Hello Gellert."

At the sudden and all-too familiar voice, Gellert's eyes widen in pure surprise. A hope blooms within him, one that prompts him to slowly turn his head to the side. The former dark wizard is rewarded with the presence of the one he longed to see above all others. Occupying the space beside him, his equal in all things sits cross legged with that same charming grin on his face.

It has been decades since it was last directed at him.

"Albus?"

The Albus before him now, is not the age he was at his own death. He is the age he was at their duel, the last time Gellert saw him, face to face. His friend takes the appearance he held in his prime form. Dumbledore's lean frame is draped in a flawlessly-cut, grey three-piece suit. His hair still clings to the auburn hue of his youth and a full, yet trimmed beard frames his lips. The man's bright blue eyes crinkle at the corners as his mouth morphs into an easy and welcoming smile. The lines of age are worn well on his handsome face.

"You seem surprised to see me here, old friend."

"I am. Why are you in this purgatory?"

"You know better than anyone that I am not without sins, Gellert. There are others I have to help before I move on."

Whatever joy Grindelwald initially experienced at being reunited with Dumbledore is overshadowed by simmering outrage. His mismatched eyes narrow as they glare at the other wizard.

"You are **dead** , Albus. How exactly do you plan to help anyone?" Gellert states, sitting up. The former Dark Lord barely noticing that he too has reverted back to his own younger self. "Only you would be so infuriatingly self-sacrificing even after their own death."

Dumbledore says nothing, denying even the satisfaction of a reaction from his old friend. Gellert's expression only hardens at the completely characteristic non-reply from the other wizard.

"You are supposed to finally be done with the world of the living and all the responsibilities and restraints it put on you! You and I both. Yet here you are in death, once again putting someone else, everyone else, before your own well-being."

Albus smiles indulgently at the passionate outburst. Gellert rolls his eyes, he doesn't know why he is surprised. Albus has always been the silent martyr.

Gellert had been the only person who ever rallied for his best interests.

The only one that knew how Albus held in all his resentment until it became unbearable.

The only one who didn't see him as the infallible, omnipotent idol that the rest of the Wizarding World had.

The only one that ever tired to protect him from the draining needs of everyone around him.

After all, Gellert was the only one who knew what it truly did to Albus.

The seer really should have anticipated this.

"You've always hated the world, Gellert," Dumbledore comments after a moment of silence. The headmaster wearing a look of tempered patience. "You never understood that you too are human and as much a part of it as we all are. Neither you nor I were ever exceptions to that."

The blonde scoffs at the words.

"No.  _You_ never understood, Albus."

Despite a lifetime of hiding his true nature, some slight tick or muscle tension on Gellert's face reveals everything to Albus. The other wizard extends a hand out, resting it on the blonde's cheek in order to turn his gaze back to his own. Gellert hates how the warmth of that palm feels so comforting.

"Then explain it to me."

Gellert turns away at Albus' gentle request. But, not because he doesn't know what to say. He's had over fifty years of isolation to reflect on his life. Gellert knows exactly what to say now, what he should have said to Albus many years ago.

"At first, I hated the world that didn't understand my power. The world that wanted me to hide what I am, my powers and abilities, to maintain the illusion of peace between the world of wizards and the world muggles," the blonde wizard begins. "Then I began to despise the world that didn't understand my hate and resentment."

Gellert turns to Albus then. His mismatched eyes searching the face before him.

"Then I met you," he whispers. "All my resentment and hate faded away when I was around you. You inspired me, reminded me why I loved magic, and challenged me to be better. I didn't realize it then, but I think I loved you that summer—at the very least, as close to love as I was capable of then. Yet, I knew it couldn't last. Godric's Hollow was our haven, but it could not protect us from the harsh reality we lived in. So, I began to loathe the world that would never understand my feelings for you. A world that would tear us apart and force us to hide our bond. It was the last straw, Albus. For me, anyway."

Grindelwald takes a cleansing breath as he remembers the anger he had felt then—how helpless he had been. It had been infuriating to realize that no matter what he wanted to pursue, the established order of the world would always find a way to restrain, control, or taint it.

Even the innocent love between two young, idealistic wizards.

"That cruel realization had firmed my resolve," Gellert continues. "I knew that I was not alone in that frustration, that unfairness. So, for the greater good, the world order had to be completely destroyed so that it could be reconstructed. Like Fawkes, I imagined that it would be gloriously reborn from the ashes."

"You wanted to rule over this new world."

"Yes, I did," the former dark wizard confirms, denying nothing. "It wasn't until later, alone in my prison, that I realized I only wanted to rule it with you by my side."

Albus' expression sobers at the irony of those words, the youthful expression holding the full wisdom of his years. 

"Only in death, can you understand the folly of life."

Gellert turns to Dumbledore, then. His face is set in a resigned expression. 

"Why are you really here Albus? Do you desire the last word even in death? Are you a mere shade, here to only taunt or torment me?"

"No, I would never do either of those to you."

"You should, you were right," Gellert admits rather easily. "I was a fool. I was so obsessed with power that I lost the only greater good that I ever had in my life."

Albus looks away for the first time since they begun this overdue conversation. The Seer watches his old friend, waiting for a reaction to his longest-held regret from his former life.

"This is a plane between worlds," the younger Dumbledore explains, choosing to address Gellert's question first. "Here, the dead resolve their regrets and unfinished business with the living before they can find peace in the afterlife. I'm here, because you want me to be here. I am your connection to the world. I am as present here as you are, I am no ghost or illusion. It's me."

Gellert lips pull into a rueful smile.

"Yet, I can never be rid of you."

"And I you, it seems," Albus replies, returning the smile. "I was not forced to come here. I had to know for myself if you felt any remorse for what you did. Any at all."

"And what is your conclusion?" Gellert asks. 

Both men stare at each other, nothing is said.

Yet, everything is exchanged.

"Life has been unimaginably cruel to both of us. We each grew up in strife, then found each other, only to be pitted against each other as enemies," Dumbledore states, putting words to the series of unfortunate events that was their lives. "However, I always knew that despite every extraordinary achievement we made apart, they would have paled in comparison to the feats we could have accomplished together. The world would have been a far better place for it."

"Yes, it would have."

Albus is surprised by that easy acquiescence. Gellert supposes that he expected more of a fight on his part. However, he has never doubted the raw talent and potential each of them possessed—how it grew exponentially when they were together.

The seer's gaze fixates on the man before him. His eyes gain an awed intensity at that thought, as if he is truly seeing Albus for the first time. 

Gellert smiles at the rather-fetching look of confusion still lingering on Albus' face. 

"The first time I knew for certain that I was in love with you was halfway through our duel. The ferocity and the passion you fought me with was breathtaking. I was completely mesmerized by you."

Remembering the raw intensity of their battle, a heat pools low in the wizard's belly. His mismatched eyes rove over the man next to him with a leisure sensuality. When he reunites his smoldering gaze with Dumbledore's, Gellert purposefully leans closer. He finds himself enjoying the reddening cheeks and wide-eyed expression on the headmaster's handsome face.  

"It was exhilarating, Albus."

Gellert grins as his heated words have the intended effect. Albus clears his throat before a grin of his own appears on his face.

"Well, you have always been the only one to match my dueling skills. I held nothing back. Then again, you are also the only one capable of infuriating me so."

Both wizards share a laugh at that.

"How we did not end up killing each other that day is beyond me."

With his words, Gellert extends a hand to interlace his fingers with Albus' long ones. It is no accident or mistake that they are the very same hands that forged their blood pact all those years ago.

"Do you even know what you are doing, Gellert?" asks Dumbledore, an amused smile on his face.

"You overthink, Albus. Consequences and repercussions hardly matter now. If this is to be the only grace I receive for my late redemption, before my eternal damnation, it would be worth it. Whether in person or in my Sight, Seeing you is always a revelation."

"Geller—"

"Don't,  _Mein Schatz_. Let us enjoy this time we have together. Fleeting as it may be."

Dumbledore is silent as the other wizard lazily reclines onto his back. Gellert rests his head in Albus's lap, closing his eyes and taking the liberty of appropriating the wool clad thighs as his own personal pillow. However, Albus allows this. The seer hums in nostalgic content as he feels Dumbledore start to run his hand over the man's blonde hair. Long fingers thread through the locks and absently trace over the shorn sides. It is all too easy to return to the way they were that summer, their current position reminiscent of the way Dumbledore would alleviate the worst of his migraines from his visions. The simple intimacy is soothing for both master wizards.

"As I said before, I am here for more than one reason."

Grindelwald's eyes remain closed as he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever other purpose Dumbledore has in this place.

"And what is that?"

"You have a choice, Gellert. You can choose to accept your fate in the afterlife or you can be reincarnated and given a chance to repent for your crimes in a new lif—"

"Neither."

"Neither?"

Gellert smiles at the genuine shock that permeates Albus' voice. He absently plays with the long fingers still loosely twined with his own.

"You heard me. It is not a choice when neither option has you."

"Me?" asks Albus, a honest curiosity to his features. "Why am I so important?"

"All of my machinations and plans were fundamentally flawed. In the aspect that I initially crafted them with the assumption that you would be by my side as my counterpoint."

The former dark wizard is quiet for a moment as he recalls the vital misstep that ultimately derailed his master plan. 

"I never shared your affinity for muggles. You were entranced by their creativity and resilience. However, I knew the darkness and the sheer arrogance they were capable of. I had Seen and witnessed the atrocities they committed, over and over, again. Their ingenuity was too often used for violence instead of towards the betterment of society. They needed guidance, so desperately. Still, I should have listened to you. My unbridled ambition needed to be balanced with your temperance."

The blonde brings Dumbledore's hand to his lips and places a soft kiss there.

"I needed you, Albus. I will always need you. I realize that now."

Gellert is surprised when he feels an equally soft kiss placed on his forehead. He opens his eyes to see Albus staring down at him. The emotion on the man's face is a blend of fond awe and utter astonishment.

"You never cease to surprise me, love."

The term of endearment that falls so easily from Dumbeldore's lips, renders Gellert speechless. Then again, Albus has always been an irreversible and undeterable romantic. Still, the former dark wizard finds himself humbled that he is the source of such an open joy in his companion.

Reaching up a hand, Gellert slides his palm to cradle Albus' face. His thumb traces the swell of Dumbledore's cheek and over the coarseness of his beard. The two wizards gaze into each other's eyes, both sneaking glances at each other's lips, both waiting for a sign to halt this seemingly-fated culmination.

They find none.

Gellert leans up first, closing the distance. However, he stops just before they make contact. Not out of hesitance or doubt, but to give Albus a true choice in this. Dumbledore smiles at the consideration before moving forward to connect their lips. The two first share a series of quick, exploring kisses, experimenting with pressure and angles. Their hands explore each other's bodies in a sensual competition to find the intimate secrets that only lovers know. As always, the two prodigies quickly find a rhythm, working together to infuse a lifetime of denied passion into the kiss. A moan escapes Gellert's throat as Albus discovers a particularly-sensitive area of his palate to exploit and tease. A chuckle from Dumbledore's own lips confirms it. Gellert retaliates with a playful bite that produces a surprising groan, one that the blonde is already planning to hear as often as possible. 

This kiss has been anticipated for over fifty years.

It has been building, simmering in the background, through brutal wars(both muggle and wizard) and long before a boy ever became "He Who Must Not Be Named" and a baby become "The Boy Who Lived". 

Yet, with all the weighted significance behind it, this kiss instills a rightness in Gellert Grindelwald.

Then the kiss suddenly intensifies as the initial novelty wears away. Gellert tightens his grip as Albus pulls him into his lap. Both wizards remember all too well the heartache that preceded this kiss. Their desperation is a mutual effort to erase the years of longing, regret, and betrayal. As if the harder they cling to each other now will undo their pasts. Each wizard hoping to replace all that pain with this raw, consuming passion that they've always managed to stoke in each other.

Overwhelmed, they part. 

For the first time in his existence, Gellert feels completely satisfied.

Albus and Gellert rest their foreheads against each other's. Their eyes are closed, simply enjoying sharing the same space and breaths without the fear of anything separating them. 

"How much time do we have Albus?" Gellert asks as his hands continue their mission of disheveling the other man as much as possible. They have already made quick work of his auburn hair. The blonde rather likes his handiwork.

"We have an eternity, it seems."

The mischievous glint in Albus's eyes throws off Gellert. He pulls back slightly to fix his inquiring stare upon Dumbledore. The silent prompting proves to be effective.

"I may have failed to mention a third option, my dearest."

"Oh?"

"Death has recognized me as a protector of the Elder Wand and has allowed me to wait here for you, to go together into the afterlife. I was allowed to keep you by my side for this last adventure. Provided that you passed a test of sorts—once you've proven that you've let go of your resentment and were capable of putting your ambitions aside. You met those parameters when you selflessly sacrificed yourself to keep the Elder Wand from Tom."

"I sacrificed myself to protect you, Albus. As little good as it did."

Albus smiles at that. His large hands follows the curve of Gellert's back, a shiver trailing behind the path of those warm palms. It is unfair how good the tender caresses feel.

"It did enough, Gellert."

"You said you were waiting for me. Have you been waiting here, alone, all these months?"

"Time passes differently here. It was not as long a wait. Even if it was, it would have been worth it to see you again."

This time, Albus leans in and starts a passionate kiss of his own. One that has Gellert chasing after his lips. A chuckle escapes Dumbledore as he pulls back for a moment.

"But before that, I still have one last conversation to have here."

Despite Albus' elusiveness, it is not hard for Gellert to deduce who else would enter this place. Tom is still alive, and there is one that has been fated to be his end—a child that still needed guidance.

"I suppose that this conversation is to be with Mr.Potter?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I've Seen how you care for the boy, Albus," the seer informs the man. "I doubt you would find peace leaving things unfinished with him." 

"I must guide him," the former headmaster explains. "I have to apologize for the impossible weight I've put on his young shoulders."

Recognizing the familiar weariness and self-depreciating tone, Gellert moves to correct Albus misconception. His hands reach up to gently frame Albus' face, gently encouraging the man to look at him.

"You underestimate him. From what interactions and glimpes I've Seen over the years, Harry is the best of you. The boy is courageous and endearingly foolhardy, yet full of bright potential. And yes, he'll make mistakes, he'll stumble, and occasionally he'll get lost. But, Harry will be just fine. After all, Mr.Potter was taught by the best, was he not?"

Dumbledore stares openly at Gellert, before nodding in silent agreement.

"Harry is my legacy. In a way, our legacy. All we shared that summer, that hope and promise for a better world for both wizards and muggles. He will succeed where we failed."

Gellert smiles indulgently.

"Then do what you do best, Albus. You bring out the best in others with your undying hope. Your boundless faith in the good of people, no matter how far they test it, is one of your best qualities. I am proof of that. I'll be waiting when you finish your business."

"Patience was never your strong suit, Gellert."

"You'll find that I have endless patience for the things I truly want, Albus."

He leans in and kisses Albus once again. This time the exchange is a slow, lingering one. 

In part, Gellert wants to remind Albus who he belongs to, and who belongs to him. But mostly, because now he can kiss the beloved man to his heart's content.

Despite the mutual desire to continue, the kiss ends in deference to Albus' other expected guest. They stand up and stand before each other as the equals they always have been. After sharing an endlessly fond smile, Gellert turns to walk away. He stops when he is out of sight, but close enough should Albus need him.

"Professor Dumbledore?" exclaims a new voice, mere moments later. 

"Hello, Harry."

Gellert is surprised by the sudden change in his soulmate's voice. Dumbledore has no doubt regained the appearance of the familiar, sage-like headmaster that the Potter boy knew best. If the circumstance were different, Gellert would have liked to meet Albus' protege.

Alas, the young wizard already has quite enough on his plate at the moment.

So, Grindelwald remains hidden and allows Harry to have Dumbledore focus for now.

Gellert is content in the knowledge that he'll have Albus by his side for the rest of eternity.

And in reality, to be the sole focus of those bewitching blue eyes is the only thing he's ever wanted since he first encountered them all those years ago. 

He hears none of the specifics of the conversation between Albus and Harry. Gellert respects the privacy between Dumbledore and his favorite student. However, he can sense the relief in Albus' soul. Gellert is happy that the boy managed to give Albus something to live for over the years—something in life that wasn't tinged with regret.

If Gellert regretted anything in his own life, it was the pain he put his closest friend through. His role in ever dulling that bright spark.

"Gellert?"

The soft call of his name, brings Grindelwald out of his musings.

"Finished already?"

"Yes. I think I have done all I can now. Though, in the end I think Harry has helped me far more than I have helped him."

Albus may have returned to his younger appearance, but his expression is one of a man that still has the phantom weight of the world on his shoulders. Gellert instantly hates the expression.

"You should not blame yourself for not being able to save me or stop Tom."

"What?"

"We each made our own choices," the former dark lord clarifies. "And while our choices had devastating consequences, we were never your responsibility.  _I_ was never your responsibility. You are a good man, Albus. I consider it one of my gravest sins that I ever made you question that." 

Dumbledore stares at the other wizard with that look of fondness that Gellert is starting to be rather fond of himself.

"If it's of any comfort," the seer continues. "Harry will name one of his sons after you. So, it appears that you have made a difference, for the greater good."

"You can still See?" 

"Yes, it would appear so. Yet, the only vision I wish to see is you."

Albus smiles at the sincerity.

"Death has made you quite sentimental."

Gellert grins teasingly but says nothing. He takes Albus' hand as they walk, the two now ready to leave the transitional plane. 

"I've always been sentimental towards you."

"Really? I must have imagined all the times you tried to kill me."

Gellert smiles, finding both his companion's familiar humor and warmth addictive.

" _Tried_ , Albus, is the word of importance." 

Dumbledore chuckles at that. 

"I've missed you, Gellert. Truly."

"And I've missed you."

The two squeeze their intertwined hands just a bit firmer, as if solidifying each other's presence. Both Gellert and Albus continue, side by side, as they make this last journey—walking towards death as they should have walked through life. The two greatest wizards of their age forever bound. Yet this time, their soul-deep bond is not made in blood or ambition, but in something far more indelible—

Love.

 

* * *

THE END

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it, my contribution to the Albus/Gellert fandom(These two deserve so many fics about them). 
> 
> I promise that my next fic of them will be more of a funny/light-hearted one, because I want a AU where Albus and Gellert are a wizarding power couple.
> 
> And as much as I respect J.K. as a writer, I do think that Gellert had genuine pre-romantic feelings for Dumbledore. He always considered him his equal and even at the end of his life, protected Albus from Voldemort(someone he found unworthy). I think that he simply had no idea how to process those feelings at the time so he repressed them. Over the years, he's had the time to process and accept his affections for Albus, hence his final defiance against Voldemort.
> 
> ^That's my head canon and I'm sticking to it.^
> 
> Anyway, in this fic I just wanted to give Gellert some emotional range while maintaining his personality. I aimed to portray him as the charmer he was when he and Albus first met and reveal some of his perspective in regards to their relationship. I also realize I made Gellert a little OOC, but I think confronting one's imminent death tends to put certain things in perspective.  
> Hopefully, I managed to achieve that to some degree and provided you with some entertainment.
> 
> BTW, German translation: _Mein Schatz_ = "My treasure" (I liked both the romantic and platonic connotation it had)
> 
> Later days!  
> Renka


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